


Let's Talk About You and Me

by timeladyofletters



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluffy, Light Smut, Reader-Insert, Reader-Interactive, Some Swearing, euphemisms and synonyms for sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-20 23:39:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6030042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timeladyofletters/pseuds/timeladyofletters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean and the Reader are in a relationship and are trying to find just the right label for their…uhhh…physical activities.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Talk About You and Me

“Wow, that was just…wow,” you sighed as you lay back onto the pillows, your erratic heartbeat struggling to go back to it’s normal rhythm.

Dean settled down onto his side of the bed and pulled the sheet up to cover you. “You’re welcome,” he winked.

“Shut up,” you laughed, swatting his arm playfully. Dean’s cocky smile softened into one of adoration as he gently pulled you closer, entangling himself with you once again.

“Seriously Y/N, I thought sex was great before you and me got together, but now? I don’t think it could ever get any better than us.”

“Mm hmm” you agreed wordlessly, snuggling into his warm chest.

“Get some sleep, baby,” Dean murmured into your ear, his hand stroking up and down your bare back.

“No way, I just need to get some food,” you told him. “Then we’re coming right back here so we can keep, uh…doing it, until the sun comes up.”

“ _Doing it_?” Dean looked down at you. “What, you can’t say the word ‘sex’?”

You hesitated for a second before answering. “I _can_ say it. I just don’t want to.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t know.”

Dean raised a brow at you, waiting for a real answer. 

“I really don’t know, Dean. I’ve just never liked that word. Saying it feels weird.” And for the most part, your answer was honest.

“So,” he questioned, “you’re a grown-up who can’t say the word ‘sex’?”

“You’re a grown-up who still calls fellow adults ‘grown-ups’,” you pointed out, raising yourself on your elbows so your face hovered just above his.

Dean shook his head as he looked up at you, a grin plastered to his face. “I can’t believe it took me this long to realize that you never say…that word.”

“I think that’s because you’re always the one saying it,” you said, appreciating how he had avoided the word altogether.

“Okay then,” Dean wound his arms around your waist and pulled you down so your body was flush with his again. “This means we have to find a label that both of us can agree on.”

You fidgeted in his arms for a bit until you got into a comfortable position. “Yeah, that sounds easy enough,” you said when you were settled against him. “What do you have in mind?”

************************************************************** 

Two days later, you were begrudgingly watching an episode of Dr. Sexy with Dean, and you had no idea what was going on. One second, Dr. Sexy and a nurse were performing a brain transplant, and the next, they were making out in an empty hospital room.

“ _Make love to me, Dr. Sexy,_ ” crooned the nurse as she loosened her hair from it’s bun, her locks falling into impossibly perfect ringlets around her face.

You and Dean turned to each other, both of you cringing at the nurse’s words.

“What about that one?” you suggested tentatively.

“Making love?” Dean scoffed. “No one says that in real life.”

“Why not?” you asked him.

Dean rolled his eyes dramatically. “Because life ain’t a romance novel, or a TV show.”

Even though you agreed with him, you couldn’t help the way your heart sank slightly at his words. Of all the synonyms for ‘sex’, ‘making love’ had always been what you considered to be the most romantic. But Dean had a point - the phrase was too fairy tale. And, as proven by the half-naked nurse on the TV screen, it sounded ridiculous.

“Okay then,” you said, turning to Dean and propping your feet up in his lap. He switched the TV off and gave you his full attention. “How about fuck, bang, or screw?”

Dean suddenly made a choking noise and spewed out the beer that he just sipped into his mouth, the spray of alcohol just barely missing you. Narrowing your eyes, you handed him a wad of tissues, which he cleaned himself off with through a fit of laughter. “Really, Y/N? You won’t say s-e-x but you’re okay with those?”

“What?” you shrugged, an embarrassed blush on your cheeks. “Everyone uses them. I know you did when you were with…other women.”

“I’m with _you_ now,” he replied simply. “Besides, ‘fuck’ is too crude, ‘bang’ is too 90′s, and ‘screw’ is too…too…” he tapered off, unable to explain that one.

“Too… _screwy_?” you finished for him, a smile playing on your lips.

Dean barked out a laugh, his entire body joining him. “Yeah, Y/N,” he chuckled after a while. “Too screwy.”

************************************************************** 

Over the course of the next few days, Dean became relentless in his search for just the right word to suit your love life. You told him multiple times to just drop it and pretend that you never brought it up in the first place, but you should have known better. Dean had always been like a dog with a bone, refusing to let go of something once it came his way; and right now, he was hanging on to the entire frigging steak.

While on a minor hunt, Dean hissed the phrase “do the do” in your direction. As soon as he got the words out, you erupted in a fit of laughter, barely able to keep your grip on your gun and flashlight. Your outburst would have given your position away to the werewolf you were hunting if Sam hadn’t taken it down only seconds before. Dean gave you a questioning look, to which you responded, “There’s no way I can even _hear_ that and keep a straight face.”

A few days later, you were all grabbing lunch at a random bar. When Sam and Cas left the table to grab more drinks, you turned to Dean and suggested the term “sleeping with”. He vetoed that one almost immediately, saying that it was too casual for what you and he had. He tried to sound nonchalant about it, but you didn’t miss the way his gaze on you softened when he talked about your relationship.

The next day, you and Sam strolled into the bunker’s library to find Dean with his face buried in a large book. Without even looking up at you, he called out, “Hey babe, what about ‘coitus’?”

Sam froze in his tracks, eyes wide and cheeks suddenly red. You clamped a hand over your mouth to stifle your bubbling laughter. 

“Babe?” Dean asked again, waiting for you to answer while his eyes stayed on the page in front of him. You zeroed in on the book in his hands - it was a thesaurus. “Come on, Y/N, wanna throw down and have coitus here on the desk?” Dean teased, the humor thick in his voice. At least, until he finally looked up and saw his little brother standing right beside you.

Dean’s face paled instantly, and he flashed an awkward smile that clearly said “Oops.”

“Ugh, Dean!” Sam groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “No sex in common spaces!”

You didn’t bother holding in your laugh anymore, and Dean joined in with you. 

“Y/N, please tell me the two of you don’t actually use the word ‘coitus’,” Sam said to you, his glare never leaving the older Winchester.

“No Sammy, definitely not,” you shot a knowing look at the still-laughing Dean, effectively turning that word down too. Sam then continued to the kitchen, the grossed out look on his face contrasting with his brother’s satisfied grin.

************************************************************** 

“Intercourse?” Dean suggested later that night as he grabbed his t-shirt around the back of his neck and pulled it off in one swift motion.

You rinsed the minty toothpaste from your mouth before splashing water on your face and patting it dry with a small towel. “Nah, that’s too technical. Like something a doctor would say.”

“C’mon Y/N,” Dean whined, taking you by the hand and pulling you into your room. “A rose by any other name and all that crap.”

“Ooh Dean, you know how misquoting Shakespeare gets my engines revved,” you fake purred, tossing your towel at his head.

Dean chuckled, shaking his head slightly, and sat you on the bed. Then he positioned himself in front of you and placed his hands on your shoulders. His green eyes pierced straight into yours, unblinking, as if he were trying to get a glimpse at your soul. If it weren’t for the warmth in his gaze, you’d think you were both in the middle of a staring contest; and you were losing.

You fidgeted under his intense scrutiny and asked, “What?”, snapping a little more than you meant to.

“What’s the real reason why you can’t say that word?” Dean asked, his voice soft and soothing. You pulled the corner of your lip between your teeth and bit down in what was your nervous habit. Dean waited patiently, running his hands down your arms and intertwining his fingers with your own.

“That word just has no meaning for me,” you sighed when you realized you had to be straight up with him, no matter how lame your reasons were. “It’s something we’ve done with other people before when it didn’t matter, and I don’t want to end up as just another girl who Dean Winchester had…sex…with. I mean, we’ve been together for a while now; there has to be a better way to define our relationship.”

A gentle smile lit up Dean’s face, from his lips to his eyes, and you knew he wasn’t judging you for being petty at all. 

“Baby, you don’t have to worry about that. Ever,” he said, cupping your cheek with his palm. “But I get your point, we’re been together for a long time. You’d think we have this label thing down by now.”

You gave him and smile and inched forward, tilting your face up to his. He caught on immediately and met you halfway in chaste kiss. At least, it started out chaste. Somewhere along the way, the both of you opened your mouths to each other, deepening the kiss. Dean wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you onto his lap, where you locked your ankles at his lower back.

Dean’s lips left yours and began to scorch a trail down your neck. Between kisses to your skin Dean mumbled, “How about this,” he paused to suck softly at the spot below your ear. “Let’s stop trying to plan everything out and instead we’ll just let it happen naturally. Go with the flow.”

Your mind was already getting fuzzy at this point, so you could only gasp out a breathless “Okay.” Dean lifted you effortlessly and laid you down on the bed before you helped each other strip down. He continued to kiss you, running his hands over your body. His fingers curled around your knee as he hitched your leg around his waist, where you pulled yourself as close as you possibly could, feeling all of him.

As your heartbeat raced, Dean’s mouth moved to your ear where his rough voice whispered, “Let me make love to you, baby.”

Your breath hitched in realization of what he had said. “I thought you said no one ever says that in real life,” you murmured, a slow grin appearing on your face.

Dean pulled his attention away from your neck and pecked the tip of your nose. “Yeah, well…maybe they should. It feels right for us, doesn’t it?”

You barely got a chance to nod your head in agreement before his lips descended on yours again. Maybe ‘making love’ did sound ridiculous when uttered by overly dramatic TV nurses; but in that moment, when the words tumbled effortlessly from Dean’s lips, it was perfect.


End file.
